"No!" The bearded man's shout echoed as he slammed the door in my face. I stood there, staring at the weathered wood, crumpling the useless coupon in my fist. Same response as every other dojo in Wavehaven. I let out a harsh breath through clenched teeth and stalked away, crossing the final name off my interface.

  A map floating beside the interface, highlighting all the "official" trainers in the city. Trainers, who didn’t give a shit about me. I spat to one side, glaring back at the building. The excuses were always the same—too full, private mentors already had students, too expensive. But mostly? They just hated Beachstriders.

  Don't take it personally, Cronia's voice whispered in my mind. Mortals have a strange habit of categorizing one another when, in reality, we’re all made of the same stuff.

  I grunted. The goddess fell quiet, and I appreciated that about her. This sliver of divinity knew when to let silence speak.

  I sighed as my mind raced through options: try the list again? Maybe grovel a bit more? Or…forget the whole dojo thing and hunt sea creatures for combat experience? I could always steal that trident during the chaos of the Triple Eclipse…

  That brought up a good question.

  "How do I restart?" I whispered, glancing to the side. Nearby pedestrians were too engaged in their own conversations to see that I was ‘talking to myself.’

  Just say the word, Cronia replied.

  I blinked. "Really? Just like that?"

  Yes, but remember—we only have ten restarts.

  "Right…” I frowned. "Why only ten? How do we get more?"

  Mist swirled from my palm, materializing into a snow-white face framed with silvery hair that danced in an invisible breeze. “I would need at least a month in the shrine to recharge.”

  The shrine wouldn't open until week's end—and if we didn't stop that masked cultist, she wouldn't have more than a few minutes inside.

  “With more Bonds,” Cronia added, “I could recharge faster…but it would still take time.”

  The reality sank in: ten restarts it is, then. A hundred days, give or take. I couldn't waste a single moment.

  Cronia floated to my shoulder, her ethereal hair trailing behind her. Gripjaw, still draped across my shoulders, cocked his head at her. Heat crept up my neck as more Tidewalkers passed by.

  "You probably shouldn't be floating like that," I muttered, heart skipping.

  “Don't worry. None of them can see me unless I fully manifest in this realm.”

  I wanted to ask what she meant by "this realm," but a familiar shout in the distance made me freeze. The general bustle of the crowd nearly drowned out the call, but it came again.

  "Zale!"

  I spun around, and my heart lodged in my throat. Rosamae sprintedtoward me, kicking up sand, her emerald streaked hair tied back in a tail. Her brilliant eyes matched her sleeveless tunic, complementing her earth-brown slacks and boots.

  My mind buzzed with panic—I'd abandoned her after that fight with Flint. For one terrifying moment, I thought she'd shout at me and demand where I'd been… But as she slowed to a stop, she simply asked, "Where were you today?" Her voice held only mild concern. "You left for a break and never came back."

  I stared, mouth gaping.

  Calm, Cronia whispered. This is a new loop. She doesn't remember.

  Right… I let out a long sigh, tension draining from my shoulders.

  An interface shimmered before me:

  [Bond Quest: Rosamae]

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  [You did not show up at the Masketeer Guild today. She looks quite concerned.]

  [Objective: Reassure her.]

  [Reward: +5% Bond Progress]

  That’s when it clicked. She would be one of them five I needed to bond with to complete my second objective.

  "Some people from the guild saw you speaking with one of the dojo teachers.” She frowned, looking more upset than uncomfortable. "You're not thinking of leaving the Maskateer Guild, are you?"

  "What? No, of course not!"

  "Then why are you going around flirting with other guilds?"

  I paused, considering my response. She was eager to help me last week. And if she was as eager and helpful then, the truth couldn't hurt. “I…” I cleared my throat. “I want to learn how to fight."

  Her eyebrows twitched, and understanding flickered across her eyes. She bit her lower lip, then nodded slowly. I nodded back, surprised by her reaction. There was compassion in that gaze, as if I'd struck some deep chord.

  A passing Tidewalker with yellow scales and bright orange eyes glared at me, pulling his gawking child along. Right. Beachstrider. She probably thought I wanted to learn how to fight because I was an outsider, hated for my mixed blood.

  "Tell you what," Rosamae said, placing hands on her hips. Her round spirit-thing peered from behind her shoulder, watching me with glistening eyes. "I have to go somewhere, but meet me at the Manta Moo tonight. I think I might have some connections that will help you out."

  I blinked, lips parting. The Manta Moo. Was she asking me on a "date" again? Would she bring up the competition? Her plan with Flint had probably involved combat training—and I really didn't want to see that jerk again.

  I cleared my throat. "I'd be happy to come tonight, but…these connections you have—they don’t involve any Skyborns, do they?”

  She laughed. "No! What makes you say that?"

  I shrugged. "No reason in particular. I've just had some…bad experiences with them in the past."

  She sobered, nodding, but before she could respond, someone shouted her name. Two girls with nearly fluorescent green hair waved from the end of the road.

  "Sorry," Rosamae said. "I have to run. But tonight, at the ninth chime, meet me there, okay?"

  "Okay.” I nodded.

  She flashed a brilliant smile before turning to run off.

  Another interface window appeared:

  [Bond Quest: Rosamae]

  [Strange. She invited you to the Manta Moo again, but unlike last time, she wants to discuss something entirely different. Interesting.]

  [Objective: Show up at the Manta Moo at the ninth chime to learn what new information she has regarding your combat training goals.]

  [Reward: +10% Bond Progress]

  [Bond: Rosamae]

  [Progress: 5/100%]

  "Interesting indeed," I whispered, watching until she disappeared around a corner. Well, that settled it. No more wasting time with grumpy dojo masters.

  I turned on my heel, mind already racing ahead to how I'd spend the hours until our meeting. The answer came immediately: masks. I needed more masks—something to give me an edge in a fight. But the best of recipes were in the guildmaster's books.

  And so, I wasted no time, immediately marching on over to…’borrow’ them for the day.

  ***

  The guild's treasure chest-shaped building came into view, its decorative mask protruding from the open top. Inside, the room was nearly empty save for a few students—three Tidewalkers and one Beachstrider with long dark hair and a gaunt, pale face. He carved at a mask as if gouging out the eyes of someone he hated. My attention lingered on him. I remembered last week, when a jerk had thrown food in his face. Another potential bond, maybe, but one thing at a time.

  I had to focus on surviving a fight against a cultist whose sword obliterated souls.

  I shivered as Cronia floated up beside me, now appearing as a full-bodied woman in a trailing-sleeved dress, an opal gleaming at her throat. She gave me a gentle nod as I hurried across the room. No one looked up as I rounded the guildmaster's desk and began searching drawers, acting like I belonged there.

  My heart pounded as I found it—a massive tome titled "Rare and Uncommon Masks, 3rd Edition.” As I heaved it onto the table, a door opened. The guildmaster emerged, stretching his arms, his scaled face contorting in shock when he spotted me.

  We stared at each other, his eyes traveling to my hand resting on the forbidden book.

  “Zale Seacrest," he said, narrowing his eyes. “What are you…” He blinked, frowning. “You were…absent today."

  "Mom was sick," I said, patting the book. "I was hoping to make up for what I missed. Mind if I borrow this?"

  He chuckled, though irritation edged the sound. "The real question is, what are you doing behind my desk?" He stopped eye-level with me, waiting for an answer.

  I swallowed, but surprisingly, my heart wasn't racing as fast as expected. Despite his attempts at intimidation, he wasn't nearly as threatening as some of the corrupt jerks I'd dealt with.

  You don't need the book, Cronia said, sitting on my shoulder and swinging her legs. Push your palm against it and request the information.

  I frowned at her.

  "Well?" the guildmaster demanded.

  I bowed my head, feigning shame as I pressed my palm to the cover.

  [Extract information?]

  Yes.

  The book exploded into silver-white mist, swirling into my palm.

  [New Information Acquired: Uncommon and Rare Masks, 3rd Edition]

  I stared slack-jawed at the dissolving mist, my heart now thundering. The guildmaster's expression was almost comical—eyes bulging, mouth gaping.

  “I-I’m sorry," I stammered, scooting away. "I don't know what just happened. And, um, apologies, but I need to go!”

  I sprinted for the door as he shouted my name. I didn't stop, didn't look back as I burst outside and raced across the sand, desperate to put as much distance between myself and the guild as possible.

  Let them think me a crook or insane or whatever. I had a murderer to fight and a world to return to. And, well, sometimes, a little theft was essential for success.